


Mary Poppins in the Sky

by kalypsobean



Category: Mary Poppins - P. L. Travers
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:22:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4698971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happily ever after is what you make it - Jane and Michael some years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mary Poppins in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DWEmma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWEmma/gifts).



> _"Shall we too, Mary Poppins?” he asked, blurting out the question._  
>  _“Shall you too, what?” she enquired with a sniff._  
>  _“Live happily ever afterwards?” he said eagerly._  
>  _A smile, half sad, half tender, played faintly round her mouth._  
>  _“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. “It all depends.”_  
>  _“What on, Mary Poppins?”_  
>  _“On you,” she said quietly, as she carried the crumpets to the fire..._  
>  \-- Mary Poppins Opens The Door, PL Travers

I. 

"Oh, do come look!" said Polaris. "Mary Poppins, do come, please!"

Mary Poppins huffed, for she had been quite busy plumping her collar just so until Polaris had snatched the mirror away. Her blouse was made of starsilk and shimmered nicely, but the collar was so soft it would never sit evenly for long. 

"But Mary Poppins! It's Michael, your Michael!"

"Butts are for goats, and I am not a goat, Polaris," Mary Poppins sniffed, but she looked in the mirror anyway. Quickly, she smoothed the collar down before her reflection swam and gave way to a familiar office. It had once belonged to George Banks, but Michael Banks had grown enough to take over his father's position in the bank and it was he who sat behind the big wooden desk. 

If Mary Poppins had not known Michael Banks as a wilful and rude child, she might have thought that she was looking at the elder Mr Banks, for Michael had inherited his round face and kept his mustache trimmed the same way. Michael always wore a brightly coloured tie, though, and could never keep his shirts ironed, whereas Mary Poppins had never seen George Banks look anything but respectable.

"What's he doing, Mary Poppins? What does it mean?" Polaris asked. Indeed, for the stars had no need of money, the details of the Banks family vocation were beyond their understanding. 

"It's none of your business," she said primly. She snatched the mirror from Polaris and put it back on the mantelpiece, where she could admire her outfit from any place in the room. "Those who spy on others never hear anything good about themselves." 

"But they weren't talking about me!" Polaris said.

"That's quite enough from you," Mary Poppins said. "You shan't have any cometary cakes with your tea if you keep this up." 

Polaris sniffled, because cometary cakes were one of his favourite foods, and the thought of everyone else getting one was quite grave indeed. 

"Off with you," Mary Poppins said. "Bring your brothers and sisters in. They shouldn't play outside without their coats." 

She glanced back at the mirror, just once, and her cheeks coloured pink as instead of her own image, she saw Michael. She knew, of course, that he was giving the two people seated opposite his desk a loan big enough that they could buy a pleasant house for their family, and not have to struggle to pay it back, because she knew everything.

"Are you looking at Michael?" Calvera said. She had come in with the others, but already wore her gloves and coat. "Polaris told us all about it."

"What, Michael Banks in the looking-glass?" Mary Poppins said. "You can't see other people in a looking-glass. What an absurd idea! Are you suggesting that I, a respectable person, would spy on other people? In a looking-glass, no less? Preposterous!"

Calvera knew, then, that Mary Poppins would never explain what Polaris had seen in the mirror. After all, getting answers from Mary Poppins was not always a simple thing, and sometimes, she would never answer at all...

 

II.

Perhaps it was that she had grown up in a house always loud and bustling, or that she had spent quite enough time with other people once she had been sent off to school, but Jane Banks valued her privacy quite a bit. She had chosen not to marry, in part put off by the stories of her finishing school friends. Their lives always seemed so dull and narrow. Their husbands allowed them money for clothes and food and housekeeping, and they bought cakes and drank tea and gossiped. Such a life did not appeal to Jane in the slightest. Her mother had always been harried and distant, even when Mary Poppins was there. Now that Jane was older, she could see how much work her mother had had to do, even with Ellen and Cook and Robertson, and all the nannies, and she understood. She didn't choose it for herself, though; she knew that she wouldn't be happy.

Indeed, if she had married and had her own family to attend to, she wouldn't be looking forward to her Bank Holiday luncheons quite so much, if she had them at all. It was the only time they really saw each other, Jane and Michael, and John and Barbara, and Annabel. On the other days, even Sundays, the others were so busy. Annabel had taken their mothers' pleas for grandchildren to heart and had three children of her own, whom Jane delighted in spoiling but was very relieved to see the back of when they were carted back home. John and Barbara lived in the very heart of the city and did not come to visit very often, for John was studying very hard and Barbara would not leave him for long in case he forgot to eat as he had done before she had taken him to task. It seemed that those two were inseparable, even now, Jane thought. She remembered how she and Michael used to think of them as The Twins, and wondered if all twins were so close. 

But Bank Holiday luncheon was most special because Michael would pay for a cab to drive him all the way from Cherry Tree Lane. He always arrived at least an hour before the others, and quietly help Jane with the last of the baking and put the tea to steeping just so. They didn't always talk in this time, because Michael hated cabs and was always grumpy for a while after, and Jane would be rather focused on having everything ready and clean in time. It was nice, though, to have some time just for them, and Jane looked forward to it the most of all things on Bank Holidays. While she wasn't lonely, sometimes she grew tired of being alone, and having Michael there helped her feel less irritable by the time the others arrived.

"It was a strange thing, the other day," Michael said, as he carefully pulled a tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven. He paused while he lifted each roll off the tray and placed it on the cooling rack, as if the task needed his full focus. Jane knew, though, that he was taking the time to choose his words, for they had both learned the importance of saying exactly what one meant, lest it result in some chaotic mishap that couldn't be explained away. "I had a couple in my office to discuss their line of credit, and I had the oddest sensation that we were being watched."

"It wasn't Mr Dawes, was it?" asked Jane. She had frightening memories of Mr Dawes Jr, and Michael had told her often enough of the things that had happened at the Bank that she sometimes worried for him, working there. 

"It wasn't, although when he found out that I had agreed to lend enough for the couple to buy a house, he was rather upset," Michael said. "He was rather put out, even when I explained that they had solid references and they were starting a family."

"He doesn't like to see money going out, does he?" Jane said. Michael shook his head in response. He took the china platter from Jane and, without asking, left the kitchen to place it in the parlour, ready for when their brother and sisters arrived. Today Jane had prepared cucumber and cheese sandwiches, and now that the cinnamon rolls were out of the oven, she slid in a rather large roast, which she had purchased rather cheaply and saved especially for Bank Holiday. It needed only warming through, so she was fussing over the vegetables when Michael returned.

"I looked up once the couple had left, and oddly, I thought I saw a person in the looking-glass," Michael said. It was peculiar enough to have a looking-glass in an office, Jane thought.

"You saw yourself," she said briskly. She was counting out potatoes, and almost dropped one when Michael spoke next.

"It was Mary Poppins, I'm sure of it," he said. "It would be just like her, to look in on us every now and then, don't you think?" 

"It wouldn't surprise me," Jane said. "A looking-glass seems just the thing she would use, too."

"Do you think she'd be proud of us?" asked Michael. But just then, the doorbell rang, and they heard loud voices from outside. Michael left Jane to finish the vegetables. As she heard her brothers and sisters greet each other, Jane thought about what Michael had said. Neither of them had done anything particularly remarkable, she decided. Michael was rather important, though, and sometimes he could help people who needed it. She was doing well enough for herself, too, she decided, for her work brought in enough money to keep her house, if she was careful. Most importantly, Michael was never as cross as their father had been, and she herself was much happier than she thought her mother had ever been. Would that be enough for Mary Poppins, though? She wouldn't dare to presume, for Mary Poppins would never explain anything, and nobody could know her thoughts...

 

III. 

"Simply splendid spread, sis," John said. He sat back on his chair. 

"Must you speak like that, John?" Barbara said. John glanced at her and then patted his stomach. Jane felt rather proud, for while she knew John ate well with Barbara doing for him most days, it pleased her that John had enjoyed the meal. There was enough left over for Barbara to take a packet back with her as was their usual practice, so she would not have to cook tomorrow either. Still, she could not quite ignore the rather annoyed expression on Barbara's face, or Michael's sigh.

"Have you finished anything new, Jane?" Annabel said. 

"No," Jane said, and stood up. She wiped her hands on her apron and leaned down to gather the plates.

"At least tell us what you are working on, then," Annabel said. 

"The dishes can wait," said Michael. "I'll help, later." 

They all pretended not to see Barbara kick John in the shin. After all, they were the Twins, and sometimes that was how they were. It was best not to argue over it, not since they really did have so little time together.

"All right," Jane said. "I'm not happy with it, though," she said, meaning she would tinker with it until the words felt right. Four faces looked at her expectantly, as if they were children again waiting for their bedtime story. She folded her hands in her lap and looked past them, at the Royal Doulton bowl on the mantelpiece, next to the little rock she had found on one of her walks and a photo of their parents, and she began.

 

Once upon a time there was a family who lived in the stars. They slept during the day and danced all night, when all children should be fast asleep in their beds. Sometimes, on special days, they would stay awake into the morning and watch the people going to work, going to school, going shopping, and all the things people do. The oldest girl was jealous of the children she saw playing in the park and one night, when the rest of her family were going to their beds, she took her coat and sneaked out of the house, down the rainbow, and into the park. 

At first she was delighted. She ran between the trees and smelled the flowers, but the Park Keeper told her to move on, for she trampled the grass and the flowers underfoot and he would have to spend hours replanting them. So she went to the swings, and because it was still so early, she had them all to herself. She sat on the one in the middle, but with nobody to push her, and never having been on a swing before, she could not get very high, and was soon bored.

"If only my sisters were here!" she said to the birds. "We could chase each other, or dance in a ring until we all fell down!" The birds chatted back to her, but she had forgotten how to understand them long ago, and eventually she moved on.

She walked along the foot-path until she reached a shop. It had wonderful things in the window - toys and sweets and clothes that were just the right size. She went in and played with the teddy bears but without a mother or a father or a nanny to buy them for her, she could not have anything to keep, and the shopkeeper yelled at her for touching the precious toys. She burst into tears and ran outside, right into the street and in between the cars until she had crossed and gotten herself lost. She turned left and right and walked until her bare feet bled from being on the hard ground so long, and she finally collapsed in a square, not too far from the park she had so longed to see.

"Why are you crying, little cousin?" asked the Sun.

"I am lost and hungry and alone," said the girl. "For I have nobody to play with, and nobody to buy me food, and I don't know where I am."

"But you have all of those things," said the Sun. 

"I don't, I don't, I don't!" cried the little girl, and the Sun could do nothing but shine on her until she had no tears left. By then it was almost dark, and the Sun was worried, for it had to be on its way before the Moon came.

But the Moon came early that day, for the little girl's family had grown worried when they realised she had not come in from the sky and been out all day looking for her. 

"What are you doing down there, little one?" said the Moon. 

"I wanted to play in the park," the little girl said, but to her ears now it sounded foolish. 

"Didn't you know we have the whole sky for our park?" said the Moon.

"It isn't the same," said the little girl. "Here the park is bright and green and loud, and there it is dark and cold."

"And did you enjoy playing there?" the Moon asked.

"I didn't. I was all alone!" the little girl said. "And I couldn't get any food because I have no money."

"Oh, my little one," said the Moon. "You have had a big day."

And then it started to rain, as if the Moon felt sorry for her. But the Sun had not left quite yet, and a small, faint rainbow appeared. The little girl ran to it, but she was so tired she could not climb. Suddenly, she was lifted up, and she floated up the rainbow on the last rays of the Sun, until she could see her Mother and Father and all her brothers and sisters waiting for her at the other end. She ran to them and clung to her mother's skirts, and they told her how glad they was that she was home.

But that night there was no dancing, because they were all so tired from looking for her that they slept through the night, and only the Moon sat in the sky.

 

"That was lovely," said Annabel. "But what does it mean?"

"It's almost like the stories Mary Poppins used to tell us," Michael said. John and Barbara nodded, as if they remembered the stories too, although they were rather too young to really do so. "You always were the best at understanding them."

Jane smiled. "It isn't finished yet, I think," she said. 

"It sounded finished," said Michael. "It had a bit of magic, in it, I think." For a moment, in the reflection in the glass over the photo, he thought he saw a familiar shape, but he said nothing. The others would not understand, he thought. But Jane saw the look on his face and followed his gaze to the mantelpiece, and perhaps, she saw it too. It disappeared far too quickly for her to really be sure, but with Mary Poppins, anything was possible...


End file.
